


Rod of Brutality +10

by green_piggy



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles X
Genre: Gen, No Spoilers, for the xenoblade x fanzine!, which y'all should totally check out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 09:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15946403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_piggy/pseuds/green_piggy
Summary: While on a mission with some Interceptors in Cauldros, Murderess finds a strange little item no one else seems to have discovered before. Irina, of course, being Irina, isn't best amused.My piece for the Xenoblade X fanzine!





	Rod of Brutality +10

**Author's Note:**

> just a small piece I whipped up for the xenoblade x fanzine (in case you. couldn't tell by now).  
> [here's the link!](https://gumroad.com/l/xcxfanzine)  
> it's free, but all donations made go to doctors without borders!  
> 
> 
> hope you enjoy~

Irina isn’t best pleased, Murderess can tell; not that it’s  _ difficult  _ to piss her off, exactly, but she’s stomping about with a ferocity matched only by the bubbling lava around them. BLADE reports had filtered in, of a promising spot in Cauldros which had plenty of materials – only, no one knew  _ what  _ materials were there.

And, of course, Cauldros equals countless indigens that could make a man soil his pants with by yawning. Murderess could take them, but most people in her squad couldn’t tell the difference between a photon saber and a shield.

So the Interceptors had been brought in. And, what would you know, Lady Luck _did_ sometimes smile on them; Irina’s squad had been one of the squads sent out on the mission.

Murderess, though?  _ Hates  _ Cauldros. Hates the climate, hates sweating through her clothing in thirty minutes max, hates having to buy a new pair of boots after every mission here because BLADE  _ do not get  _ that hot ground tends to melt shoes with pathetic soles.

Irina being here, though, makes it all worthwhile. No indigens are currently mooching about, so Irina is sat on a rock, her folded jacket serving as padding between her behind and the boiling boulder. She’s messing about with her rifle, tongue sticking out of her mouth. Gwin’s hovering about near her like an annoying blatta that refuses to leave.

The other Curators are... skipping pebbles. It’s more than a bit pointless, given that they’ve yet to make a single stone bounce, and the lava splash could boil their skin off, but whatever makes them happy.

At least  _ one  _ of them has to do their job. Sighing, Murderess cracks her knuckles and gets ready to dive in.

Time passes. The dirt under her nails deepen. The sweat dampening every inch of her body increases exponentially. The air around her is as suffocating and heavy as always.

_ Nothing _ . It’s all the same old rubbish they always find in these parts.

Eventually, though, her eyes catch on something unfamiliar. With a bit of huffing and grunting, Murderess yanks it out; a tiny rod, smaller than her handl. She stumbles back, then catches herself and stands up straight. She holds the rod up high, its many protruding parts gleaming in what little sunlight Cauldros has, and grins.

It’s definitely not an item she’s seen in the Collectopedia; she’ll have to check, of course, but her grin widens when she realises that she can  _ name  _ this… whatever it is.

Huh. She turns it around in her fingers. Could be useful for pummelling people, even if it  _ is  _ a little small. Maybe more for eyeballs or smaller body parts, or just a small thwack over someone’s head.

She looks up. Irina’s sitting in the same position as before, still frowning and tinkering with her rifle.

“Oi, Irina!” Murderess calls with a grin, swaggering over to her.

Irina continues cleaning her weapon for a few seconds. When Murderess just remains standing over her, hands on her hips, she looks up with a growl. “ _ What _ ?”

“You see this before?”

“No.” Irina doesn’t even look at it.

Murderess frowns, just a little, and waves it about in front of her face. She gives the other’s nose a gentle boop; Irina recoils as if she’d been shot. “Look at my Rod of Brutality Plus Ten!”

“Plus  _ ten _ ?” Irina repeats. Her eyebrows almost arch into her hairline, highlighting the stark shadows under her eyes. Whatever sleep regime she’s following, it is  _ not  _ enough rest.

Murderess squashes down the faint murmurs of concern in her chest. Nope, she is  _ not  _ fretting over  _ Irina _ . She’s tougher than most BLADEs combined. She can handle herself.

Still… it’d be a shame, losing her only worthwhile rival. Yolanda was about as terrifying as her hair suggested.

“ _ Murderess _ ,” Irina snaps.

Murderess gives Irina her best coy smirk. Irina rolls her eyes, jamming the butt of her rifle into the ground. Gwin startles worse than a mephite.

“No need to sound so annoyed, Irina. The answer’s simple.” She taps the top of Irina’s tangled hair –  _ Jesus _ , that needs a wash – while grinning. “It—” Thwack. “Has—” Thwack. “Ten—” Thwack. “ _ Edges— _ ”

With a growl, Irina shoves Murderess’s hand off her head. “No need to hit me!”

She just laughs. “I’m only messin’ with you. Don’t get so worked up; aren’t  _ I  _ meant to be the princess here?”

“The only kingdom  _ you’ll  _ rule is a kingdom of assholes,” Irina grumbles. She seems more exhausted than angry too, and she heaves a heavy sigh. “Just – I don’t care what you name it. Give it some stupid name from those RPGs you used to always play.”

“Aww, you remember those? How sweet.”

“Shut up.”

Her boss is nearby, so Murderess bids her rival another farewell with a whack to the head (“I  _ will  _ shove this pistol up your—“) and strides over to them.

They don’t notice Murderess until she’s peeking over their FrontierNav device with a grin. “Oh, that’s a  _ really  _ cute terebra—”

“You saw  _ nothing _ !” they hiss, shoving the device against their chest. The terebra rolling on its back was utterly  _ adorable _ , although she’d rather die before admit that out loud (and cats are still cuter).

“Yeah, yeah.” She thrusts her new discovery into her boss’s face. “New item for you.”

“Oh?”

Murderess lets them take it to inspect, turning it over in their hands. “How much do you think it’s worth?”

From her point of view, it looks like a key to – something. Maybe an ancient ruin! Oh, and just  _ imagine  _ how much money that’d bring in—

“Huh.” They blink. It’s not a good ‘huh’.

Murderess crosses her arms. “What is it?”

“We found  _ tons  _ of ‘em, earlier.”

Murderess’ eyes follow where her boss thrusts a thumb at; piles upon piles of tiny keys. She wants to cry. Just a little.

“Still,” her boss continues, “we couldn’t come up with a name for it, so…”

“The ‘Rod of Brutality Plus Ten’.” Her superior starts a bark of a laugh— “Just tell me how much it’s worth!”

“Honestly..?” They sigh. “A hundred, if you’re pushing it.”

“A hundred  _ thousand _ ..?”

“Nope. A single one hundred.”

Silence, then--

Irina’s laughter  _ cackles  _ in her ears as Murderess storms off, leaving in her wake a wave of confused Curators and an Irina wheezing for air.


End file.
